


An Echo

by TauntedOctopi



Series: A Calamity And A Clone [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: All characters depicted are over the age of eighteen, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Porn, Established Relationship, F/M, Feelings Realization, Healers, Multi, Porn With Plot, Power Imbalance, References to Depression, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TauntedOctopi/pseuds/TauntedOctopi
Summary: In darkness, often the strangest flowers bloom.She never thought she would see Seph again. When a man who looks just like him shows up on her doorstep, she offers him shelter. At first unable to see beyond their respective grief and mission, the more time they spend together, the more a strange feeling grows.
Relationships: Kadaj (Compilation of FFVII)/Original Character(s), Sephiroth/Original Female Character(s), Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Series: A Calamity And A Clone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669999
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> All characters depicted are over the age of eighteen.  
> I own nothing but Melanie.

The resemblance scared her at first. If he had been a little younger when she had met him, his hair shorter...

At first she thought perhaps she was going insane. He was dead. Gone. Returned to the lifestream.

For two years she had mourned him. The girl nobody knew about. Even monsters like him had been loved, and Gaia, had she loved him. Even knowing what he was...

And here, on her doorstep, was a man who looked just like him, right down to the catlike pupils of unnatural green eyes.

"Seph-?"

"I'm afraid not." His voice was softer. Less menacing. Less commanding. She knew he was telling the truth right away.

"Who.. Are you?"

Surely it couldn't be pure coincidence that a man who looked identical to her dead lover had shown up on her door, not when she was certain nobody had ever known about their involvement.

"My name is Kadaj."

Partial. She knew the translation of the name.

"I'd ask if I could come in, but-"

"But you already broke into my house." she countered. 

"Yes." He did not seem apologetic. That was a familiar attitude, too.

"I don't mean to be rude.." she stepped closer to him. He didn't back down. Probably because he was armed with a katana, and her hands were empty. "But what are you?"

Thankfully he didn't seem to find her question rude at all.

"Me? I'm a remnant. A physical manifestation of Sephiroth's will."

"So he... Made you?" she asked, trying to understand. 

"Sort of. The lifestream made me. I've never met him. But I know of him." He shrugged, "and of the Réunion."

So he was a part of Seph, then? In some way, some small part of her lover returned to her?

"So why are you here?" she asked, curious as to what possible reason he would have to be there.

"I don't know." he admitted. "All I know is that my brothers and I must find Mother... But first I had to find you. It was his will."

That was the truth, too. Kadaj might be the embodiment of Sephiroth's hate, but he found himself unable to lie to the woman whose home he had been compelled to find.

"He sent you to find me? Why?"

A shrug.

"I believe he meant for me to watch over you."

She smiled faintly at that. That sounded just like Seph. Possessive, even in death.

He peered down at her. So this was the woman his creator had demanded he find, protect. Remind whose she was. Who she belonged to. Wide black eyes, thick curling black hair, tanned in the afternoon sun. The perfect contrast to their own silver hair and pale complexion. A healing mage, if he recalled. How it must torment her, to be able to save lives, but having been unable to save the one she had loved most. 

Her hand reached out; he had to force himself not to react violently, but it was clear that she wasn't going to harm him. She touched his cheek, a strange gesture, one he wasn't familiar with. An even stranger expression crossed her face, but before he could question it, it was gone, her hand dropping from his cheek, embarrassed. 

There was a brief pause. 

"Are you hungry?" she asked finally. 

He tilted his head, confused by her question. It wasn't one he had expected. 

"I-?" he considered his answer. His first thought had been to refuse, but she was looking at him with such wide eyes, a sort of emotion there that he had never seen directed at him before. 

She knew it was probably wrong to allow this man to stay here, but she was so lonely. She missed Seph so much, and this man was a part of him. If she didn't think too much about the small differences, she could pretend this man was truly him. 

"Yes." he answered finally, "I could eat." 

Wordless, she led him through the house to the kitchen. A few potted plants decorated the window ledge and wooden table. 

Kadaj wasn't sure what he had expected, but she was different to what he had imagined. He had imagined someone just as cold and clinical and cruel as his maker. But this woman seemed perfectly sane. Kind. Soft, even. 

Was that why Sephiroth had loved her? Because she was kind? Because she had loved him regardless of his origins?  
It wasn't a mystery Kadaj cared to solve. He was usually loathe to be his creator's puppet, but if this particular task included those soft glances she kept giving him, being fed home cooked food and spoken to kindly... He supposed he didn't mind. 

Besides. He had to wait for his brothers. He had nowhere else to be, as of yet. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the gentle clink of a plate being set in front of him. Beyond a simple thanks, he ate in silence while she cleaned dishes, tried not to stare. 

"I don't know your name." he admitted, embarrassed that it had taken this long to ask. 

She turned to face him, and he expected disappointment, hurt even. But somehow she understood. This man was a fractured remnant of Seph. He couldn't possibly be expected to remember everything. 

"It's Melanie." 

"Melanie." he repeated, memories that were not his own flooding his mind. Of the same girl in front of him, in arms that were his but also not his, not truly. Of her laughter, of her mouth on his. Of the way she had cried when he - when Seph - had had to leave her behind. 

"You remember me." It wasn't a question. 

"Yes. They aren't my memories, but yes." He nodded. 

"Will you stay?" her question surprised them both. Perhaps they both knew she wasn't seeing him as himself, but rather as who had made him. But he found himself growing addicted to the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. 

"For now. I have to wait for my brothers. If I may stay here-?" 

"Please." her voice was soft, threatening to crack, "I've been so alone.." 

"I know." 

Somehow, he did know. Could feel the pain radiating from her. Was this why he had been sent to her? Not only to reaffirm that she was still his creator's property, to watch over her, but to help her? 

It was an odd thing to consider, given he had, thus far, known only evil and cold. This seemed like such the opposite of his purpose, and yet here he was anyway. 

Perhaps it was simply the way she was looking at him, or some instinct leftover from his creator. But he liked those memories, even if they weren't his own. 

He felt, secretly and very small, an odd desire to relive them, to take them and claim them - her - as his own. 

That may not have been part of the plan, but it was his, anyway. And soon, he hoped, would she be.


	2. 2

As far as house guests went, he was reasonably quiet. She couldn't complain; he was polite and tidied after himself, and the only thing that she could possibly complain about was that sometimes he startled her.

She would be busy with something, and he would move or speak a certain way, and she would feel as if she were talking to a ghost.

His presence, at least, helped her nightmares. Or so she had thought.

Kadaj didn't need to sleep as often as a regular human might have. As such he was awake at the late hour, cleaning his weapon and thinking. Waiting. He felt as though he were a stagnant river, waiting for water to flow through again. Without his brothers, he had no purpose yet.

From down the hallway, a woman screamed.

Had someone broken into the house while he had been caught in his own thoughts? He doubted it. His senses were too sharp to have missed an intruder. Curious, he left his room to investigate the source of the sound.

The nightmares were near constant. She dreamed of him almost every night, unable to save him as she had been unable in reality. 

More often than not, she woke screaming, crying, fresh waves of guilt and pain wracking her. 

It took her a moment to realise she had regained consciousness, that the figure standing in the doorway to her room was not a ghost. 

"You were screaming." He said, seemingly unbothered by her state. 

"Oh. I -" she wasn't sure if she had woken him. Felt mildly bad about it. 

"Bad dream?" 

"How did you know?" 

"Most people don't scream in their sleep." He explained, crossing his arms. He had removed his long leather coat, leaving him in black shirt and pants. He had taken off his shoes, too, looking as close to casual as one could get. 

She found herself staring, partially to distract herself. Partially because the resemblance was so strong, it was almost soothing to her. 

"What did you dream about?" he didn't ask anything else, just stepped into the room, perhaps assuming she would protest if she didn't want him there. 

Wordless, she scooted over so he could sit beside her. The bed always seemed so cold and empty, no matter how many blankets she put on. 

He sat. 

"In my dream I always see his death. And I'm always powerless." 

"Does my presence help?" he asked; he had no concept of appropriate questions, very little human interaction combined with the bluntness of his creator. 

If she was honest, she appreciated it. 

"A little," she admitted. If he had been anyone else, it would have felt like a betrayal. But he was part of Seph. Made from his will. It was almost like having a small part of him there with her. A second chance, almost. 

"Then I'm glad." He leaned against the headboard. "I can stay until you fall asleep again, if you'd like?" 

She was glad he had offered. It saved her the embarrassing task of asking. She hadn't wanted to, in case she offended him or something. 

"Please." She agreed in a small voice, trying to get comfortable under the blankets again while he got under them on the other side of the bed. 

Kadaj didn't seem particularly bothered, shifting over slightly so she could curl into his body heat. 

"Thank you," she mumbled, half asleep already. The comfort of having a familiar body beside her was too luring to stay awake.

He didn't answer, just lay on his back, allowing her to curl into him. It was a strange sensation; he knew she was most likely thinking of his creator, but that was okay with him. She was surprisingly soft against him. He found he quite liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment or kudos if you're liking this rare content so far!


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this pre lockdown, it looks like we're going to be quarantined soon like other countries. It's easier to write in short bursts, which is why this is comprised of varying short chapters.  
> I hope y'all enjoy.

They didn't mention her nightmares again in the days that followed. Wordlessly, without any sort of spoken agreement, it became the norm for him to sleep beside her.

Although he didn't need to sleep as much as she did, he found it peaceful, almost soothing, to sleep beside her. She seemed to appreciate his presence, barely waking from nightmares once he started sharing her bed.

He felt a little bad, at first. As if he were taking something that wasn't his. In a way, though, he also felt smug. His fear was that Mother would want Sephiroth more than him and his brothers. Melanie didn't seem to mind that he wasn't quite Seph. She just seemed to appreciate that he was there. That in itself fed his ego. She seemed to want him around. Even if he wasn't whole. He was wanted.

She knew it was, in a way, cruel. That to a certain degree she was using him. Or, she had been, at first. Letting him stay, letting him sleep beside her. All because he was a part of the man she had loved.

As the days passed, though, she began to notice the subtle differences between them. Kadaj may be just as ill tempered and clever as Seph had been, but in a way he seemed so much more innocent. So uncertain of things. A man grown with a childlike curiosity to the world.

She found herself feeling almost protective. More than once she had woken to find her arms around him. He could have easily moved her, returned to his own side of the bed, even his own room. But he never did.

They drifted around like magnets; he always seemed to end up in the same room as her. Watching while she cooked. Sweeping the floor while she cleaned dishes. Watching her mend holes in socks. And each night, without fail, he ended up holding her while she slept, trying to ignore the treacherous ache in his body.

It was natural, if annoying, for his body to react to her. If he had been any more monstrous, he might have considered simply taking what he wanted. But not with her. He couldn't hurt her.

It came as a complete surprise to him, then, when one night, before she fell asleep in his arms, she pressed a soft little kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He lay awake for hours after, the place where she had kissed warm, almost burning.  
He had never known such things, only had memories of kisses that were not his own. He wasn't even sure if it counted as a real kiss, but he definitely hoped it did.

Eventually he must have drifted into sleep; the next thing he was aware of was sunlight on his face, and a small, soft hand brushing his hair from his eyes.

Without opening his eyes fully, he managed a smirk.

"What are you looking at?" he had, at least, some of the charisma that Seph had possessed.

"You, obviously."

He didn't need to look at her to know precisely what expression would be on her face. Half-asleep adoration, a soft look that he had committed to memory, just in case she decided at any moment not to look at him like that anymore.

He knew it was because he was so closely resembling Seph. Knew it most likely had little to do with him. He didn't care. Just the concept of being wanted scrambled any annoyance at being a replacement or second rate.

The thing was, Melanie wasn't sure what she felt anymore. He wasn't Seph, but the resemblance was so strong. They were so alike, and yet so different. She wasn't sure if she wanted him because he was a part of Seph, or because he was someone entirely new.

It was best to leave that confusion for another time.

"Did I offend you?" she asked, figuring she may as well broach the subject on her mind.

"How so?" he was confused. 

"When I kissed you goodnight." she clarified. 

"No." He almost laughed, the idea that she would have offended him humorous to him.

"Oh." Relief filled sleepy black eyes. 

"You can do it again, if you like." His smirk widened. 

He had no problem with taking advantage of her attraction to him, as if counter balancing her taking advantage of his resemblance to her dead lover. They were equally young and foolish, equally desperate for touch and to be wanted. While their intentions were misplaced, there was no real malice behind either.

"I - are you sure?"

Once again he was amused by her softness. This sweet, kind girl had been so precious to Sephiroth, the polar opposite to him.

Did he want her to kiss him again? Yes. He was young, touch starved, and hungry, and she seemed suddenly all too willing to give him what they both needed.

"I'm very sure. Think it over. I'll get the coffee." He didn't want to push her too far; he hoped in the time it would take him to go downstairs, pour coffee, and return, she might have decided.


	4. 4

It took Kadaj about ten minutes to make the coffee. In the space of that time, Melanie had paced her room at least a dozen times, cleaned her teeth, resumed pacing, before falling back into bed with a little frown on her face.

It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss him again, and properly, too. It was whether or not it counted as some sort of betrayal to Seph's memory. Perhaps, because Kadaj was him, in a way...

She felt as though she was making excuses for poor behaviour, but on the other hand, Seph was gone. Kadaj - and his brothers, whenever they showed up - were all that was left of him.

He had been sent to protect her. Take care of her. Was this what Seph had had in mind? If he couldn't be here with her, Kadaj would do in his stead?

It was their call, she realised. Her choice, and his choice, with very little direct influence from Seph himself.

Melanie wasn't sure how she felt about that. Instinct and her gut feeling was all she had to go on.

She was still considering everything when he returned, a cup of coffee in each hand. He looked about as casual as was possible for him; that was to say, if she overlooked the ethereal beauty he had to him, he looked relatively casual, but never normal. He was too pale, those green cat eyes watching her as he passed her a cup.

"I'd say you look like you've seen a ghost, but that's poor taste."

She giggled in spite of herself.

He didn't comment anything further; they drank in silence. She appreciated that, felt no pressure. Seph had always been so demanding. Always wanted an answer. Always taken what he wanted. She had loved that about him, but wasn't sure whether she could allow anyone else - even a part of him - to be so similar.

She set her empty cup on the side table, fidgeting, very interested in her nails all of a sudden. 

"I thought about it." She said finally; it would be better if she started the conversation, she thought. 

"Oh?" A silver eyebrow arched, encouraging her to continue. 

"I would like to do it again." She admitted, then hesitated. 

"But you're afraid of being disrespectful." He hazarded a guess, hitting it right on the head. 

"Yes. I know you have some of his memories, and you're a part of him, in a way, but -" 

He cut her off, pressing a long pale finger to her lips. 

"You can tell me to stop at any time." 

That was familiar, too. Seph had always been so rough with her, but had always given her a way out. Always told her she could tell him to stop and he would. The familiarity of the phrase, even the way he said it, threw her. 

He took advantage of her distraction, leaning in to kiss her. It started as a gentle kiss, hesitant until she started to kiss him back. He was going off memories that weren't his own, but this moment was entirely theirs. 

At first, Melanie wasn't sure how to react, but instinct and the want she had for him, the feeling of being touch starved, took over. She found herself kissing him back, threading her fingers through soft silver hair, letting the strands spill over her fingertips. 

Kissing her was even better than his borrowed memories had imagined. He had never known such a soft touch, such gentleness. He liked the feeling of her hands stroking his hair, the impossible softness of her mouth on his. 

She sighed against his lips; he took advantage of that, licked his way into her mouth, tongue exploring freely. She didn't resist him, moved closer, returned his hungry kiss with a similar fever. 

After a moment, she pulled away, desperately needing to breathe, despite her reluctance to leave the embrace. He licked a thin trail of saliva from his lower lip, head tilted in consideration. 

"I can see why people enjoy that." 

It struck her then that she had been his first kiss. 

"I-I'm glad you did." She gave him a little smile, slightly nervous. 

"Feel free to do that again. Whenever - if ever - the mood strikes you." He shrugged; he wanted more, but he wasn't going to push her for it, considering himself lucky enough with what he had gotten already. 

She appreciated the casual way he spoke about it; made it clear that it would be welcomed again, but not forced. She wasn't sure Seph himself would have been so patient with her. Perhaps it was Kadaj's personal inexperience that was making him a little more patient than his original counterpart. 

Either way, it endeared him to her a lot more than she expected. 

"Come on," she said finally, "we need to go into town for bread today." 

He nodded, already back on his feet, sliding his feet into his shoes. 

He hadn't expected her to be so warm. So kind. She was getting under his skin. A pleasant distraction while he waited for his brothers. Dimly, he wondered how much would change when they arrived. 

It was best not to dwell on that, right now. It was a beautiful day, and she was smiling, holding her hand out to him. 

He could focus on his mission later. Right now, he let himself take her hand and be pulled merrily on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying my very best to keep him in character. Hence the flashes of unpleasantness in his thoughts, hints of darkness. He's not necessarily a bad person, but it's all he knows thus far, as in Canon. Perhaps being around Melanie might slowly remove some of that influence..


	5. 5

Kadaj was certain that he had been to this marketplace before, or at least, Seph had. But he was experiencing it for the first time through his own eyes.

He was naturally inclined to ill temper and impatience, given what part of Seph he represented, but he forced himself to try not to be bored or irritated as Melanie purchased various items for the house.

Bread, butter, herbs. Several fruits he had never seen before. He just accompanied her in silence, watching, glad to finally be done and on their way back home. The sun on his face had been nice, but it all seemed so... Normal.

He couldn't imagine Seph in such a situation. Perhaps that was why Melanie had seemed so happy to have him with her. Was he actually, somehow, more social than his original counterpart?

He was still pondering that while she put the food away; he sat at the wooden kitchen table, idly picking at blueberries. He had never had them before, found he liked the contrasting sharp sweetness.

"So I'm guessing you won't mind if I make a pie with those berries?" Melanie watched him out the corner of her eye. She had gotten a variety of berries, but he seemed to have taken to the sour blueberries best.

"Not at all." Before, he had found having to eat an annoyance. He had gotten complacent with her around to cook for him. Actually enjoyed food. Could understand why humans liked to eat and made it a social thing.

That, and the delighted expression on her face when he agreed certainly had a lot to do with it.

Regardless of what he was, where he had come from, and what his intent was, she was getting under his skin in a way he hadn't expected. He had thought he would simply be bored, watching over her. He never expected to actually feel something, let alone something like this. So intense.

He wanted to kiss her again, badly, but he didn't want to overstep and upset her. He wasn't even sure where such a feeling had come from; she wasn't doing anything particularly special, just watering the plants on the window ledge.

Was this what all humans felt? It was confusing to him, in a way, unfamiliar but not unwanted.

He found himself on his feet, standing behind her, his arms around her waist, head resting on her shoulder.

"Is everything alright?" She seemed.. Concerned? Was she worried about him? He liked the idea that she might be.

"I just.. Wanted to be close to you. Is that alright?" he felt foolish saying it. This was not his purpose, and yet, it felt as though it were right nonetheless.

There was a hint of something akin to sadness in her eyes; he caught it in the reflection of the window before she turned to face him, a small smile on her face.

"That's alright. I..." she hesitated, "I like when you're close."

For the briefest moment, Kadaj felt a stab of irritation at his original counterpart. This girl would have given Seph anything he had possibly wanted, and he had cast her aside for selfish goals of being a God.

Regardless of what happened, regardless of his need to find their Mother, Kadaj swore to himself he would not make the same error. He would not leave her behind, as Seph had. She was his now, and that meant something to him, something he vowed to honour, even if she didn't know it yet.


	6. 6

In the days that passed after their trip to the market, Kadaj found himself taking every opportunity to be around Melanie.

He had earnestly meant it when he had said he liked being around her, and as far as he could tell, she had meant it when she said she liked him being close.

Certainly he found they were touching each other a little more than they had before; little clasps of hands, brushes of fingers together, sleeping tangled in each other's arms.

He thought that being so physically close to her would quell some of the need he felt, unconsciously half the time. He was incorrect. If anything, he found himself growing more agitated, desire for her building beneath his cool exterior.

Had this been how Seph had suffered, too? Tormenting himself until he gave into such a base human need? Somehow he didn't think so. From what he knew of Sephiroth, he was a man who would have simply taken what he wanted, when he wanted it.

Of course he was fully capable of similar, if he felt so inclined. A small part of him, perhaps a part of him that wasn't connected to Seph, was entirely his, prevented him. He would wait for her to initiate things, too worried that he might ruin everything if he tried.

He was not patient. It wasn't in his nature. But for her, he tried.

×

Things were equally challenging for Melanie; she could practically feel the torment oozing off his aura.

It wasn't that she didn't want him, she was simply hesitant, still unsure of whether it was a good idea. She had loved Seph more than anything, more than anyone. But she had to remind herself that as much as they were similar, Kadaj was not Sephiroth. That if she let him in, let him close to her intimately, it would be crossing a line she couldn't uncross later.

With that in mind, she wanted to be absolutely sure. Wanted to be able to see him as his own person, otherwise it simply wouldn't be fair to him. Even if he didn't care about being used as a second rate replacement, she couldn't - wouldn't - allow that to be the case.

That wasn't to say her self control wasn't sorely tempted. Especially when she caught him staring at her with such hunger in those familiar green eyes.

And so they waited. A test to see whose resolve would break first. Honestly, it was getting to a close tie.


End file.
